Swine
by She Dictator
Summary: "Sookie is strange, there's no doubt about that. She knows she's strange; her family, friends, and community all know that she's strange- maybe even crazy. But who's to say that she's the only weirdo in Bon Temps? Or even in the world? There are a lot of strange people out there amongst the common rabble, and Sookie is about to meet a few of them." Pre-Season One, AU with OCs.
1. Chapter 1

**This is my first True Blood fic and it will be told through the perspective of an OC. Unfortunately I have a lot on my plate, so updates will be slow, but I just wanted to get this out there since it has been swimming around my mind for a while.**

**Thank You,**

**She Dictator**

* * *

Chapter One

The young woman peruses the different cuts of meat behind spotless glass. She's not much to look at, but I lean on my elbows at the register to get a better look anyway. At the risk of seeming like a pervert, I allow myself to drink her in. My boss Robbie gives me enough grief over the fact that he's caught me staring at both men and women more than once, but Robbie isn't here. I can look all I want.

The woman is staring at thick cuts of rib eye and I can tell that she wants it really bad, but she's on a budget like most of the customers we get down here at Choice Meats. Money is tight all around, but she's dressed awfully nice in a canary yellow sundress that brings out her tan; and the glow helps, too. It's the only thing that has kept my interest; the only reason she has me staring.

Like I said, she's nothing special: blonde hair, big boobs, and doe eyes- her looks are typical for the region we're in. I wouldn't have given her a second glance if it weren't for that damned glow. She's cute, sure, but that iridescent halo of light makes her beautiful. She turns to smile a big, toothy smile at me and it's like gold; the air around her shimmers about an inch around her body, with little pops of yellow light like sunshine.

"I'll take about three pounds of hamburger." She says.

I stare for a moment. She seems really flustered about something and stares right back instead of asking what my damage is like most ordinary people would.

"You smell nice." I blurt, "What kind of perfume are you wearing?"

She blushes prettily, "I'm not wearing any."

Thought so. When she got close, she smelled sweet and clean like summer rain in the countryside; like freedom and innocence. There isn't a perfume in the entire world that smells so pure.

Dragging my eyes down to the register, I ring her up for three pounds of hamburger and make my way towards the meats, feeling her eyes on me the whole time. Robbie is always on my case for ringing people up before weighing out the meat. Apparently it isn't efficient. What I think isn't efficient is going back and forth between the register when I know I can get perfect portions of meat out in one go. But that's just me. Robbie and my currently absent coworker Ashley aren't what _I_ would call efficient.

"Are you from around here? I know most folks in Bon Temps, but I've never seen you before." She titters in her sugary sweet voice.

As I'm pulling on cheap latex gloves, I glance back at her over my shoulder to find her fixated on my every move. Letting go of the elastic band with a snap, I smirk as she jumps. I don't grin even though I want to. My smirk is a sign of years of practice, lips stretched taut over the telltale signs of my excitement. I've been all over the country from towns no one has even heard of, to New York and Los Angeles. I was just in New Orleans before I received a tip from my longtime friend Cassius that there was work to be done in another unknown town: Bon Temps, Louisiana.

"I moved here recently from California." I fib, though it's not a complete lie since that's my birthplace.

"Really? California? I knew your accent wasn't Southern…" she trails off from her enthusiastic chatter as a somber look crosses her face, "Do you miss your family? You looked awful sad when I first came in."

Did I? No. That's just my face at rest. I try not to look annoyed and instead avert my focus to the meat. It's cold and slightly damp from the ice, unleashing the familiar thick iron stink of raw beef into my nostrils where it festers. It's positively disgusting, but I'm drawn to it.

"My family doesn't miss me any." I reply quickly when I realize I've waited too long to respond like a polite person, "I just got my Bachelor's in biology over there and decided to do a bit of adventuring. I've never been outside of California, so I thought it would be exciting to see new places."

She grins and goes "oh!" like I just told her the meaning of life, so she must be a bit simpleminded. I place the thick, bloody cuts of meat on pristine sheets of white paper and begin to wrap the chunks of raw beef. I chance a glance back at the cute blonde and notice that her eyes are on my shoulders, my back, and my arms. She burns me with her gaze until, finally, I give in and look at her head-on; amber eyes narrowed into slits.

She jumps, alarmed, and the aura around her pulses white for a split second. _Curious_. That once welcoming, embracing aura became like photonic death in the blink of an eye. I decide to ease the tension I so easily created.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" I ask, snapping off little pieces of tape and sealing the perfectly triangular white packages shut.

Brown eyes grow large, "Like what?"

She's embarrassed, sun kissed cheeks flushing with hot blood. I'm too intrigued to be embarrassed.

I smirk, "Like I'm a new exhibit at the local zoo or your celebrity crush."

Although seemingly impossible, she turns even redder, and for a moment I think it might be possible to die of embarrassment because this young woman is about to.

"It's just…" she stammers and trails off, "I can't _hear_ you."

And then I know I was right. Ever since I can remember, I've been able to see strange things; the truth, some would say. I've seen people with wings, some with horns, and other odd things. I only knew it was out of the ordinary when I told my second grade teacher about it and she called my parents for a little powwow. My parents just said I had an overactive imagination; chalked up the horrific pictures I drew as the result of too many cartoons.

The same thing happened in middle school when, on my first day of class, I noticed that my history teacher had long, pointed ears, and eyes like a rabid goat. It was the same old song and dance: overactive imagination, hormone imbalance due to puberty, stress from moving to a new city, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera.

I quickly realized that my parents were hiding something from me. I'd ask, badger them until my mother screamed at me to go to my room. And when I finally did hit puberty at the age of thirteen, my body changed in ways not mentioned in the pamphlet all the girls received in elementary or even on the complimentary box of maxi pads provided by the school nurse to girls who had "accidents".

Nowhere did any of these resources mention that a girl "blossoming" into a woman would lose all of her teeth in a day and then wake up the next morning with straight, chalky-white teeth that turned into little spindly, sharp needles when she would get angry, or stressed, or excited… Like now, when I've come across an unusual creature that isn't entirely human, like me.

"You can't hear me? But miss, you've been responding to my questions this whole time." I bait her, letting her confirm what I already suspect.

She leans in and I catch a whiff of her warm scent. Her pretty face scrunches up but her eyes remain wide, like she's thrilled to be saying this. Her voice is hushed even though we're the only ones in the store. Hell, there isn't even a security camera in this place.

"I can hear people's thoughts." She hisses, "But you're the first person I can't hear. It's so…" she fumbles for the word, "Excitin'! What _are_ you?"

What am I? I honestly don't know, but it's not something good or benevolent based on the thoughts I've had and the things I've done. That doesn't really bother me too much, though. When I first met my friend Cass, I was in a bad place. I was just a kid, trying to figure out what was going on with me, and he helped. He guided me. And right now, I think I've found what he's had me searching for.

I drag my tongue over the many crowded, pointed teeth in my mouth and respond in the way I trained myself to; with my lips barely moving to hide my freakish fangs, "I don't know, honestly. But ever since I was little, I could sort of tell that some people were different. Like you. I saw you were special, but I just didn't know how."

She beams, cheeks dimpling, and I turn away as I place the meat in a thin plastic bag on the counter. I can hear her scavenging around in her purse to find her wallet.

"It's on me." I say and glance up to see her eyes have gone all wide again.

"Oh! Thank you, I-" she stops to gawk at the four, neat little packages, "Oh, no! I couldn't possibly-"

I hold up a hand, "You were more than willing to take it pro bono when you thought it was nothing but hamburger. Meat is meat; it doesn't matter if it's prime rib or grinded up beef parts."

She grimaces at that last bit but takes the steaks with a grateful smile, leaving one behind. When I give her a questioning look, she replies that she only needs the three for herself, her grandmother, and her older brother.

A caramel colored hand is shoved under my nose as I punch in a few numbers to clear up the register's screen.

"Sookie Stackhouse." The woman chirps.

Hastily, I flick off the bloodied gloves into the trash bin behind the counter and wipe away the spattering of blood I foolishly left on the register's keys. Now I have to take my apron to the dry cleaner's.

"Eden Cairn." I nod as I fit my pale hand into her slightly larger one.

"I'll be seein' you around, Eden! Thanks again! Oh, and you have a _lovely_ name, by the way!" Sookie calls as she heads out of the store, leaving me alone again.

A tiny bronze bell tinkles softly before falling silent, and I find myself looking around the tiny shop as if lost. The walls are made of brick that's been painted over with an ugly coral color. Chipped, dingy white tiles line the floor, and five aisles of spices, sauces, instant mash, and other things that go with meat crowd the little store. In the back is a freezer section full of beer and cheap wine (which I've sampled), and frozen veggies.

My tongue glides over my teeth subconsciously- purely out of habit- and I find that they're back to their normal, Chiclet-like shape. I sigh and slam my elbows down onto the counter as I gaze around the sad shop. Briefly, I glance at the empty parking lot and the dead stretch of country road before sighing again.

I'm going to have to give Cass a call, but he never answers his phone during the afternoon. I'll be damned if I leave a voicemail, since the bastard never checks it. I'm about to dig in my pocket for my phone to shoot him an obligatory text when something stops me.

Copper.

Nostrils flare at the metallic odor and I zero in on the little package next to the cash register. There's a light pink blossom on the upper-right corner. Saliva pools under my tongue. With deft fingers, I use my nail to slice open the tape and I unfold the stained paper to reveal the still-bleeding meat. Robbie's half-brother CJ had slaughtered the cow just this morning. This is as fresh as meat gets without biting into a cow in the pasture.

I pick up the steak and effortlessly rip a mouthful off; chewing through the flesh like it's nothing more than a ripe peach. I chew a bit too carelessly, though, and a bitter, acidic liquid fills my mouth. Gagging, I spit it out and poke the wound in my cheek with the tip of my tongue. The smooth organ is assaulted by hundreds of little pinpricks and I realize that my teeth have gone all bizzaro again.

I frown at this little development. I usually have such good control. Suddenly, my mind drifts to Ms. Sookie Stackhouse and I discover that her sweet scent still lingers in the vicinity. I recall how she said she'd be seeing me around, and I smile, taking another bite out of the meat.

I miss her already.


	2. Chapter 2

**I would like to thank Wilhelm Wigworthy and Night Kunoichi for the lovely reviews and I would also like to thank those of you who are following this story. Your support is greatly appreciated!**

**xoxo,**

**She Dictator**

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Chapter Two

"Sookie Stackhouse."

I can't shake the feeling of guilt that penetrates my gut like a dagger as I speak the name into the sleek phone. The black device is squished between my shoulder and my cheek as I struggle to light a cigarette. The faint clicking of my lighter subsides as the nicotine stick is ignited with a crackle. I narrow my eyes as my skin prickles. There's nothing but silence on the other end of the phone, but I know Cass is there. If I try hard enough I can hear the faint, metallic rattling of his breath as he sighs.

"Well, that's… a name." he chuckles breathily, but there's tension beneath the humor.

My eye twitches as I pinch the bridge of my nose, "Is this the woman you've had me running all around the country for, or not? If not, then send me somewhere else." I glance at the dark street as a shadow darts across it, "I don't like it here."

"Is that so? I have heard that you've been taking in the local sights and sounds." I can practically hear his smile, "Apparently you had a wonderful time in New Orleans."

Back against the stucco façade of Choice Meats (a horrible material to use for this humid area, by the way), I slowly bring my cigarette up to my lips and take a long drag. I survey my surroundings slowly. Smoke streams out from the corners of my mouth like I'm a dragon, waiting quietly for my prey. I don't spot any more movement, but I'm not so naïve as to think it was nothing more than a cute bunny or a deer prancing around the area. I feign a look of relief- like I've dropped my guard- and return to the conversation.

"_That_ was New Orleans and _this _is Podunk, Louisiana. There's a big difference. I'm surrounded by nothing but beastly people and wild animals here."

"But I thought you liked the people? At least, that was the impression Angel gave me in her report. She says you can't keep your pretty little eyes off of them."

"Angel?" I can't keep the disgust out of my voice and he chuckles once more.

Angel is a curvy she-beast with wavy, golden hair and perfectly blue eyes. Her looks are deceiving, though, because her actions make a mockery of her name. The woman is nothing more than a sadistic succubus who takes pleasure in stalking me to get on Cass's good side. I remember when Cass first introduced me to her a decade ago; she had given me a look of pure disdain.

When I asked her what her problem was, her pretty eyes had widened a fraction before she hid a well-rehearsed giggle behind her delicate hand. Ever since, she has made it her mission to annoy the living hell out of me. Honestly, she'll do just about anything for anyone if it means screwing with me. What irks me most about her, though, is that when Angel looks at Cass, all she sees is a chance to advance her position in the Underground Brotherhood- the society of "unique" mercenaries that Cass supervises.

"Why would you even give that whore's word any merit?" I spit as I violently throw my cig to the ground and stomp it out, barely taking notice as the embers dance away across the pavement, "I know she's in Intel, but for fuck's sake can't you assign her to babysit someone else?"

"Now, now." He chastises, "Be nice."

"How'd she even know _any_ of that, anyway?"

"You know your coworker, Ashley?"

"Yeah? What about h- Aw fuck! _Seriously_?"

"Angel is a demon. Demons shapeshift. I honestly don't know why you're surprised." He replies blandly, as if disappointed that he really had to explain this.

I rub my temple vigorously, "I can't believe this. Why didn't you tell me that that little worm was here the whole time?"

"You really ought not to call your Sister names. Besides, you two have been partners for quite some time. I'm surprised you've yet to warm up to her."

"That bitch is no sister of mine."

"You are both Sisters in the Brotherhood. Even if you do not approve of her methods, or fancy her as an individual, it would behoove you to remember your Oath."

His voice has gone from lighthearted to steely and I can't help but cringe. Right, my Oath. We're all equals in the Underground and I will give my life before I expose the Brotherhood and its members. I think someone should remind Angel about that "equals" part. She clearly zoned out before she signed the contract in her own blood. Yes, terribly cliché of the Brotherhood. And there are even more clichés where that came from- we even wear black robes to the occasional induction ceremony.

"I understand." I barely grind out from between my now dagger-like teeth, "Now, riddle me this, fair Brother… Is Ms. Stackhouse the one?"

"But of course. I wouldn't have sent you to Bon Temps if I wasn't sure our target was there."

"Oh, really? Because I can recall a dozen previous trips that led to nowhere." A smirk plasters itself onto my face, "Gotta hand it to Angel and her wonderful sleuthing skills."

"Enough. I will contact you within the week. I'm going to give our curious customer the news and see what she wants to be done about the target."

"Understood."

There's a click and dead air.

I throw my head back and sigh. My voice sounds so small in the seemingly vast wilderness of the Bon Temps outskirts. The air is thick with humidity but a cool breeze tickles my exposed flesh, prompting me to scuttle towards my rickety K5 Blazer. As I fish around in my pocket for my keys, I hear the soft rustle of leaves and my ears prick. That's not the wind. I've been working as a field agent long enough to be able to distinguish the sounds of nature from those of the beast, and this is certainly a sly beast that's tracking me.

Inhaling deeply, I close my eyes and I tilt my head down towards my phone as if I'm texting someone or reading an email. Nostrils flare at the olfactic symphony of musky earth, bright pops of the local flora, and coppery tones of the fauna that's tainted by a faint hint of decay. My heart flutters with the slight stirrings of alarm as I open my eyes. Remaining calm and collected, like I'm completely unaware of the lurking figure that stands amongst the trees and the brush exactly twenty-two meters behind me, I wrench open the truck's door and hop in.

I don't crank up the radio like I normally would as I pull out of the parking lot and barrel down the empty road. In the truck, I can no longer smell anything other than the stench of diesel and it's next to impossible for me to hear over the loud rust-bucket's mechanical racket. I silently curse my luck for only being able to find this pale blue menace of a vehicle on my tight budget. And then I curse Cassius for putting me on a budget in the first place. Apparently a BMW would blow my cover.

The beam from my headlights illuminates the road as I continue to press down on the gas. I'm already going well over seventy when I glance in the rearview mirror and spot a figure standing in the middle of the road. My heart leaps into my throat and I release my anxiety with a nervous, pitchy laugh as I dart my eyes back towards the road to make sure I don't veer off and slam into a tree. When I look back, the person is gone.

Son of a bitch.

It's not as though I was going to backup and plow the person down, but it still makes me uneasy that my stalker is fast- inhumanly _fast_. I may be a lot of things, and I may have some very refined skills, but unfortunately those skills are strictly to be used for human targets. I'm not cleared to exterminate anything supernatural unless explicitly instructed, due to an embarrassing miscalculation on my part from a past job.

Besides, this could be someone else's target. You would be surprised how ornery some Brotherhood members get when you accidentally take out one of their targets. You might also be surprised at how long a member has to train to get clearance to deal with supes- five years, just so you know.

Why so long? Well, some supes are a pain to kill and nearly all of them put up one hell of a fight. Elves have poisonous blood, you can't let a goblin touch you or you'll get a nasty burn, and vampires and demons need to be burned once you kill them, so you're basically killing them _twice_. Not to mention how tough it is to get near any one of those creatures since they're all tricky bastards. And don't even get me started on faeries. Though in all honesty, I've only ever _read_ about faeries. You won't spot a single one down in the Underground.

I'm tempted to call for backup, or to at the very least inform Cass that we have another supe on our hands, but instead I focus on getting back to my rental home with its neighbors and potential witnesses. Supernatural creatures rarely show themselves in populated areas- for obvious reasons- and I'm hoping that whatever is following me is of a secretive nature; like a vampire or a demon. Although it will still be a pain if it _is _a vampire or a demon, but right now I'm pretty much grasping at straws.

With a slow exhale, I turn onto the narrow driveway of the little lemon-yellow one-story off of Pine Avenue. For a while I just sit there in the rumbling truck before shutting off the engine. The neighborhood seems darker than usual, and I realize with an electric shock of fear to my brain that it's because the streetlamp on my block is out.

Coincidence? I'm not too sure, so I wait a moment longer before taking a breath and hopping out of the vehicle. I'm still riding high on adrenaline by the time I make it to the front door and I practically kick it down to get inside. I switch the light on and my back slams into the closed door when I see a figure sitting in my living room.

I choke back a scream, "Angel?"

The she-beast is perched on my lumpy brown couch, legs crossed and eyes glued to her phone. Her golden hair is pulled up into a bun on the top of her head and she's wearing street clothes: khaki shorts, a pink button-down blouse, and white Keds. It's a little odd to see her in this garb and not her usual skimpy dresses and five-inch heels. I want to laugh but my heart is still hammering in my chest and the fear has made my teeth all wonky; something she never fails to make fun of. Resting the back of my head against the door, I slide down with a shaky sigh. She nearly scared the shit out of me.

Angel doesn't look up from her phone as she replies coldly, "Good evening. You're certainly getting home later than usual."

"Was that you outside?"

Now her cornflower blue eyes look up, "Hm?"

"Never mind." I growl, "What are you doing here?"

"Cassius sent me." She puts her phone away and stands up, "We're being reassigned."

I'm up in a flash, "_What_? Why?"

She gives me a guarded look as she puts her hands on her hips, "That's on a need to know basis and-"

"Lemme guess, I don't 'need to know'? Spare me the clichés." I nearly rip my pocket as I pull my phone out, "I'm calling Cass."

"Why? He's the one who gave the order. We're to work on a case in Scotland." She purses those pretty lips, "Stop being such a whiney little cow."

I ignore her jab, "Scotland?"

"Yes. I've been tracking the report for some time now and no one else can make it to the area. You're needed to take out a kelpie."

I blink, "Hold up. A kelpie? I thought we agreed not to deal with any creatures that like to drown people and shit? Remember the siren incident? Besides, since _that_ little mistake, Cassius hasn't allowed me to even cough on a supe."

She rolls her eyes, "Yes, you needn't remind me of _that_. But our ranks are spread pretty thin at the moment. There are rebellions in the other dimensions and some of our Brothers and Sisters have fled back home to take up arms."

Right. The rebellion in Faery; the Motherland for almost all of our companions. I had only heard about it in passing and picked up on some interesting tidbits about princes and royalty, traitors and treachery. To me it sounded like nothing more than a soap opera and I couldn't really interrupt the two bickering elves to ask for more details. Truthfully, elves are a bit frightening. One might think that demons would be, but at least demons are more straightforward in their intent. Elves are devious creatures.

I storm past Angel and throw myself down onto the couch. I can feel the corner of my mouth twitching up into a snarl as I glare at my phone. It's been two years since I started on this case; two very long, agonizingly dull years. I'm not about to let it all go to waste because Cass is being fickle about assignments. So what if there's a kelpie drowning people somewhere in Scotland? I'd hate to be the bearer of bad news for Cass, but there are _loads_ of kelpies in another dimension, just waiting to take the place of the one that crossed over into this realm.

Inhaling deeply, I calm myself with the familiar scents of my home from the musty old couch that holds decades of odors, to the stagnant pot of cold coffee in my kitchen. Spindly teeth grind up together as I lean back. I can feel Angel's eyes on me. I know she's irritated as well. Though I make a point of badmouthing her ability at gathering info, we've both been in this together. After two years, we finally got a hit and now we're being told to back off? Something isn't right. I'm not dropping this so easily.

When I open my eyes, I see that Angel has the same fire burning in her. Her mouth curves into a smirk as she blindly types something into her phone, "That kelpie can take care of itself. What's a few drowned humans?"


	3. Chapter 3

**I would like to inform my anonymous reviewer that I have indeed updated my Dragon Age story. Thank you Night Kunoichi and Guest for the reviews and thanks to everyone for the favorites and follows!**

**xoxo,**

**She Dictator**

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Chapter Three

I'm sure we fancied ourselves complete badasses for all of twelve hours before Cassisus began blowing up both of our phones, wondering why the hell we hadn't boarded our flight. The thing about the Brotherhood is that you can't exactly disobey orders. Actually, you flat out _can not _disobey a high-ranking official of the Brotherhood. Sure, we took our oath of equality, but that was for mercenaries and not the "founding fathers", so to speak. Besides, there has to be _someone_ to oversee everything to make sure things don't go to shit. Cassius is one of four such powerful, omnipotent individuals in North America. I've only ever heard of the other three, but apparently Cass is the most lenient; which doesn't say much, since he's infamous for dishing out severe punishments.

And I'm sure my and Angel's insolence won't be overlooked.

Funny thing is, I've never seen Angel do anything bad. Well, I've seen her do some morally repugnant things during our time as partners but I've never seen her go against orders. She's one of those goody-two-shoes individuals who completely brown noses the boss to the point that it's sickening. Angel practically worships Cassius like he's some sort of saint. It's so unlike her to go against him that it puts me on edge. I can't help but feel like she's setting me up for something even as she stares grimly at her phone as it vibrates its way across the unfinished surface of my coffee table.

Cornflower blue eyes suddenly fixate on me, "I'm hungry." Angel says, as if somehow it's my fault that she's plagued by such inconveniences.

"Help yourself to whatever you can find in the kitchen." I respond impatiently, "Keep in mind that I haven't done much grocery shopping for the entire month I've been here, but you'll find lots of coffee and cereal."

The sun is high in the sky, its rays filtering in through the living room window to cast pale fingers over everything within reach. A deep, dull ache has settled into the front of my skull and I'm all the more irritated for it. Hands cradle a hot cup of black coffee but the heat barely even registers for me as I focus all of my attention on the rhythmic vibrations coming from my pocket. Avoiding him is futile, so I wait until Angel has gone to help herself to whatever is in my kitchen before I slink down the hall and slip out the back door. Once I'm safely in the backyard behind the lone gardenia tree, I answer the phone.

"Cass."

"You know my favorite quality about you, Eden, is how well you listen."

I wince at the acidity in his tone, "Cass, I'm not giving up this case. I've been working on this one for _two years_."

"You say that as if two years is comparable to two centuries." he gives a dignified snort, "You have Brothers and Sisters who have worked cases ten times as long as yours and they acquiesced when asked. You're being far less graceful than them."

"Well that's because I'm _not_ them." I bristle but remain calm so I don't completely blow my chances of convincing him, "Listen Cassius, do this as a favor for me. Let me stay on this case. I've worked really hard and I swear I'll work even harder."

He doesn't even hesitate to snap, "No."

"Why not?"

"This case is bigger than you'll ever know and that is all that I'm telling you. Drop it and get on the damn plane. Those tickets are not refundable."

"Ugh!"

"Do _not_ get an attitude with me, Eden. I've been very patient with you thus far. You're lucky I haven't sent a retriever after you and Angel both."

My blood curdles at the thought. That's no light threat. Retrievers are the lowly dogs that the Overseers send out to "take care" of defectors- they don't even "retrieve". They aren't even rightly part of the Brotherhood, either; they're just thuggish bounty hunters. The Brotherhood hires them from time to time to take out rogue members simply because a rogue doesn't deserve an honorable death; what they deserve is to die at the hands of scum. Harsh? Yes. Absolutely. Especially since the retrievers that the Brotherhood hire regularly have an especially bad reputation for raping and torturing individuals before killing them. And when a member is disposed of, the Brotherhood sniffs around for a replacement. That's how _I _got in.

I feel cold despite the blazing summer sun.

"Th-That's not necessary." I barely manage to stutter out.

There's a brief, frightening silence before he replies, "I know." Cassius sighs, "I know you're passionate about everything you do, Eden. That is why you are one of my favored Sisters. That is why I sought you out so long ago. But this case isn't for children, Ed-"

"I'm_ not _a child!" the words come out more forcefully than I intended, "I'm twenty-three, Cass. _Twenty-three_ is hardly a _child_."

"Compared to most of your Brothers and Sisters, it is, Eden. It is."

"Not for a human."

Again I'm met with silence, but of a different nature. My origins have always seemed to be a taboo subject for Cassius; hell, even for most of the other members of the Brotherhood. When I was younger and very green, I was completely in awe when I first laid my eyes on the motley crew of my soon-to-be brethren. Elves, demons, pixies, shapeshifters, vampires, and werewolves; but there wasn't a single human. Feeling uneasy but a bit excited, I had asked Cass in front of the band of thirty under his command if I was the only human. I endured the most ridiculing silence of my life; a silence that was only broken by the werewolf Gavin howling out a raspy laugh. Cass had led me away and we never spoke of it again. Until now.

"Get on the plane."

Or _not_ until now.

My heart clenches painfully at his avoidance of the subject, "That's out of our territory, Cass. _Scotland_? You know we can only take on jobs outside of our jurisdiction in extreme cases. A kelpie, annoying as it may be, is _not_ an extreme case. I heard from Alastar that in the British Isles they used to hunt down kelpies and spriggans all the time for poor villages. It was a one-man job back when he was in that prefecture." I frown as a bee lands on my hand, "Besides, you've been throwing your weight around enough as it is by sending me here, there, and everywhere. Need I remind you of the tiff Hayato threw when he found out you were sending me to California? And Persephone when I went to New York? And Ivanna when I went to Quebec? I don't know how friendly you are with the Overseers in the British Isles, but I doubt they'll be as forgiving as the North American division."

"You've made your point." he hisses, obviously irritated that I brought up his fellow Overseers.

"So I get to keep this case?" I grin, ignoring the tickle of the bee's exploration of my hand.

"For now. Do not do anything foolish. Your impulsivity won't be tolerated on this mission."

"Good!" I smile, ignoring his barb, "Now, what's the next objective?"

"The vampires are making a big announcement today on television." he says suddenly, "This is a pivotal moment for all supernatural creatures. Their acceptance or rejection from society will determine the actions of the rest of the supernatural community, but no one will be quick to follow in their footsteps. Things will be tense for a certainty."

I flash back to the person in the road last night but shake off the memory. The vampires are revealing themselves to human society? It strikes me as bizarre that they would do such a thing. People are afraid of the unknown and are quick to lash out with violence. But most of the qualities of vampires are already known in "mythology", and what is known isn't something most people would find pleasant. I highly doubt a society of blood-sucking, murderous, lustful, manipulative creatures is going to be welcomed with open arms by humanity.

The vampires are boldly walking towards extinction, if you ask me. I'm sure there will be a wonderful vampire genocide to come in the next few years, but their actions don't concern me in the slightest. I have no vampire friends (the vampire Celeste is my Sister, but not a friend, and I hardly see her anyway) and I know for a fact that I myself am not a vampire or else I would be nothing but smoldering ash beneath a beautiful, fragrant gardenia tree. Vampire affairs are _irrelevant_.

Sucking on my bottom lip I ask, "Ah, how does this pertain to my mission? Last I checked, Ms. Stackhouse is_ not_ a vampire. In fact, I'm not exactly certain wh-"

"Sookie Stackhouse must be protected at all times until the contact makes up her mind on what to do with her." he responds brusquely, "Though, I will tell you that it is looking more and more like a retrieval mission. Do not let any harm befall the woman before I contact you again."

Mind lingering on "retrieve", I'm about to ask Cass to elaborate on how any of this vampire bullshit concerns Sookie when he hangs up. I glare at the phone and the bee flies away.

Inhaling deeply, I relax as the floral perfume washes over me. There's a chain-link fence, so the yard practically opens out into scraggly woods and thick berry bushes. Birds chirp out there in the woods and for the first time I realize how eerie it is to have no backyard neighbor; just vast wilderness. Again my mind goes back to the stranger on the road and I consider asking Cass to move me to a neighborhood that's more densely populated. He probably won't want to hear me asking for any more favors, though. Hell, if I ask he'll probably set me up in some swamp shack out of pure spite.

"Eden."

I whirl around, surprised that I hadn't heard Angel open the back door. She's glaring blue lasers at me, one foot propping the screen door open as she clutches a cup of coffee to her chest (I try to ignore the fact that she's using my favorite "Pimp" mug). Then again, I'm not too surprised that she sneaked up on me since she's a demon_ and_ a _very_ old one at that. Though I'm not sure how old she is, apparently with age comes heightened abilities for a demon. It's just a pain in the ass that she can creep up on me. That's why I prefer the company of humans. Humans can't sneak a thing by me and they smell far more pleasant than demons, who have a sort of burnt stench about them (which I can't smell on sneaky, sneaky Angel or else I would've known from the start that she was my crackhead coworker Ashley).

"Angel?" I plaster on a fake smile.

"You were talking to Cassius."

It's not a question, it's a statement. I'm sure she heard him on the phone with those dog ears of hers, so there's no point in denying it unless I want to piss her off even more. Tempting as it may be, I opt to tell the truth and avoid her histrionics.

"Yup."

"Why?"

"I was reclaiming our mission and I was successful." shoving the phone back in my pocket, I cross the weedy backyard and brush by her, "So, since I was able to get everything back on track, get the hell out of my house."


End file.
